The One to Redeem Me
by Nielawen
Summary: A/A Post AOTC, before the Anakin-Obi duel. Anakin may be lost to an unknown enemy. Obi-Wan and Padmé aren't ready to give up, but their last asset could result with inevitable consequences that Padmé, that last asset, will have to face. (revised from WI


A/N: I don't own anything Star Wars!!!!

The One to Redeem Me      

It was late at night. This was when they all came out, into the lower level districts of Coruscant, stimulated by the haze of the multihued lights and divine fluorescent bands. Groups of people could be seen leaving and entering the Outlander Club dazzled in alluring garbs full of exotic style.

            Like many was the woman who roamed Vos Gesal Street in the stuffy darkness that was the Uscru District. Leaned against a wall in the shadows of a worn, two-story building, she held a device in her gloved fingers, gazing skeptically at the Club entrance. A solemn voice spoke through her simple comlink, and she took a moment of reassurance to reply.

            "I'll be fine. I can handle him."

            "Contact me frequently." The man on the other end took a hesitant pause. "I can arrange back-up in case—"

            "Ben," came the woman's impatient scold, in a tone that finalized the argument. "He's mine to take— and I can take him. He doesn't have the heart to turn me away."

            "If he still has a heart."

            She let this sink in, knowing her partner was right. Perhaps it had only been little time since all was well, but that was enough to corrupt what was, for a short time, the best thing that ever happened to her…

            "Don't push yourself too much," the man continued. "You may not want to admit it, but you're frailer than you think."

            "I have plenty up north to make up for it," she said with confidence, and the assurance that a good politician possessed.

            There came a heavy sigh from the other end. "I have no intention of debating your strength. You're right, you know him in ways I could never, and you still have a place in his heart." There was a moment of thoughtful silence. "But you can't hide from him, Padmé. Anakin knows every path in your mind. He spent most of his childhood learning them."

            She nodded her understanding, knowing that her partner couldn't see. "I've grown in my connections with him. It's something I can't explain, but believe me when I say I know, and can find out, just as much as him."

            He did not understand. He didn't need to at the moment. This was a mission, and the woman was their last resort— and their most valuable asset. True, if she couldn't succeed, no one could— it would be the end. And that horrible, dreaded end was nearing, no matter what they did to try and stop it. But somehow, he had faith the she would prevail. It was something that Padmé Amidala made a priority.

            "May the Force be with you, Senator."

            He was surrounded by them— left and right, in front and in back.

            And he couldn't have been more pleased.

            This was his idea of an independent mission. In fact, it wasn't even much of a mission— there was a possible threat, but nothing he couldn't handle. The real purpose was a part of his training.

To give in to his desires.

He couldn't argue with the delight of it.

Anakin swallowed down another shot of a superior liquor from the Outer Rim as he watched the busy screens of Podracing, nuna-ball, and odupiendo races. One of the several women sitting around him took the glass from him and placed it on a nearby table. She then advanced to a more relaxed position, her hand resting upon the leg of the handsome Jedi.

Anakin flashed a coy smirk suddenly as he felt a sensual kiss upon the back of his neck. He took his hand behind him and felt for one of the clinging women. "Would that be Misae?"

The seductive kissing continued. His grin turning into a faint scowl, he grabbed the attractive patron by her long black hair nearer to his face. "Wanna give it a rest?" he hissed, and let go roughly.

From the bar came a tall, leggy beauty with bronze-hued hair that drifted down her uncovered back. She looked passed her shoulder once before crouching down in front of Anakin with a mild look of concern on her face.

"What is it Keeli?" he inquired from his favorite of the five alluring women.

She looked back suspiciously. "That woman at the bar's been watching you all night."

Anakin leaned to the side and peered at all the seated figure at the bar. Passed a line of humanoids and male customers, he spotted a uniformed person, sipping casually at her drink, appearing a little too at ease.

"Go find out who she is."

Keeli nodded her obedience. "Taire will know."

As the tall female walked off, Anakin kept his eyes peeled on the woman at the bar. She resembled a pilot, though her attire was a bit unfitting for one. She wore a helmet of intricate designs and foreign latches, and most of her face seemed to be concealed by the shadows of her hat's rim. All that could be seen were her lips, full and glistening— irresistible. Many locks of braids ran down her back, and the color of her hair ranged between black to dark cinnamon. From the light, he couldn't tell exactly.

Her uniform was too strange to him. It was like nothing he had seen before. Every bit of gear donned dirtied, off-white colors and dull pewter. It was beautiful in its grace, and superior in the power it reflected. The woman sat with a perfect posture, holding her glass with excellent etiquette. Such conventional behavior was a giveaway. She was not a pilot, but a poser. With what intentions…?

Keeli returned from the bar in which she had silently inquired the identity of the woman from Bufon Taire, the bartender. Keeli sprawled out upon the long, cushioned sofa, speaking to Anakin nonchalantly. "She's a deep-space pilot. She was very reluctant to revealing her name earlier, Taire said. But she goes by Uriel Angelo."

Anakin furrowed his brows. "That sounds like a foreigner. There are no origins like that in the inner region."

"From what he was told, she comes from Iego." Keeli gave a snort of amusement, as did several others around her.

Anakin's eyes went alight. He leapt to his feet, startling the women clinging to him.

His breath became rapid as his gaze was set intently on the woman. With a glance from her end, she slid off her seat and walked slowly to a nearby hall that extended to the hotel accommodations. During this time, he got a good look at her attire. Her tight trousers fit firmly on her small legs, but her upper garments were looser, definitely hiding something beneath them. And her walk was unmistakable. Only one woman in the universe strode with such grade and confidence.

With a knowing smile, he climbed over the sprawled legs of the prostitutes, pouting and murmuring in confusion as their attractive host walked away informally.

The pilot led him down a long corridor, lit by a few black lights along the wall. It had many halls branching off from the main, a better reason for him to be extra cautious. But his youthful suspicion would have had him clinging to his lightsaber for assurance. Instead, he let it remain clipped to his belt, clinking against his thigh as he strode on the same path as the disguised woman. This person was no threat. 

No threat at all.

With her whitish clothing, he would be able to spot her instantly. He slowed suddenly as he felt a nearing presence. She was hiding around a nearby corner, and he chuckled under his breath.

With a speedy pace, he approached one of the branching halls. Like his instincts fore-warned him, the woman bolted around the corner, a gun pointed at his chest. Her pistol, however, was only in her possession for a few seconds. Just as quick as she had veered around that corner, her gun was slapped out of her hand, and she was looking up into the face of Anakin Skywalker.

They both stood there, facing each other fearlessly. Right away, Anakin knocked off her helmet and revealed a closer indication of the woman's identity.

Of course, it had been obvious before. But he was still awestricken by Padmé's beauty. Her bold brown eyes looked up at his towering, honed build, and for a moment he sensed a twinge of fear.

"Nice outfit."

She shrugged. "I know you like uniforms. And, it was either this or mimicking all the Vestiphobians out _there_." She crossed her arms. "But then, I suppose you're fond of both."

Anakin crouched down and picked up the pistol. He studied it with interest. "Very nice. Good craftsmanship and tasteful choice of metal." He emptied out the ammo and tossed it down the opposite branching hall. "Why are you here, Padmé?"

"I should ask you the same question."

"Vacation," he answered flatly. "How is Iego these days?" He chuckled. "I know now that you obviously weren't hiding from me. You'd be foolish to pull off a stunt like that and think I wouldn't catch on. But of course, you're the smartest person I know— after me." He cupped her chin gently and deepened their gaze. His forehead was creased with both concern and confusion. "Why are you here, angel? I'd be lying if I said I wasn't surprised to see you."

Her voice was caught in her throat. His gaze was so powerful. "What makes you think I'd be here for other reasons besides just 'being here'?"

"It's called looking beyond the obvious. And there's always a reason behind your actions. It's in your nature."

She stuttered for a moment, mouthing the beginning of words but nothing coming out to process. Finally she whispered, "I wanted to see you, Ani," and her voice choked. 

No, she told herself. You can't cry. Don't cry.

The compassion in his eyes lit up his face. But it wasn't like it had always been before. There was still something in his eyes that wasn't the same, wasn't right. No matter, she was being pulled in close by his strong arms. Her head rested on his chest for a moment and in that time she managed to gather herself, to force herself to not give in to her emotions.

His hands began to roam her body at the same time he pulled her face up to his level to meet her lips. His embrace was deep and intensely passionate, and Padmé was reminded of old times. She was so lost in memories that the kiss wasn't awkward, though it should have been. His hands rounded her hips, caressing them hungrily and aggressively. At this stage, he pulled her body close to his, so close that nothing could pass through their attached bodies.

At this, Padmé broke away. Her clothes had been bulky for a reason. But he kept going, a free hand moving passed her waist and up beneath her shirt. His hand met the soft skin of her pelvic bone area, slowly advancing up. Padmé moaned is protest, but it did nothing.

"No," she murmured against his lips, finally tearing herself away from him. Her voice quivered as she had spoken, fearing that he would have discovered she was… Right away she wiped the thought out of her head. She wouldn't come that close again. He couldn't find out… She was now in angered disbelief. How could he find the nerve to think he could make an approach like that? As though everything was fine again… 

They weren't that young, love-struck couple anymore. And no matter how much it hurt to acknowledge, they were both corrupted— in two very different ways.

His hand came upon her waist again, a coy grin on his face and a lustful hunger in his eyes. "C'mon, Padmé. Don't be so uptight."

"I said 'no'!" she snapped defiantly, peeling off his hand. "You have no right to pretend things are like they used to be."

"But they can be." He gripped her arms tightly and pulled her close. They were cheek to cheek as his hands roamed her body again.

She squeezed her eyes shut, feeling overpowered and weak. But she soon realized that he wasn't touching her provocatively— he was searching her. He wasn't making that obvious, though, and continued to pursue a touch that was sensual and slightly invading.

"You think that I've come for all the wrong reasons, Anakin—"

"That's alright." He pulled away. 

She saw the mischief in his eyes, and the way his smile curved. There was nothing but malice there. Or maybe she was wrong…

His strong hand came upon her wrist with a secure grip. "It doesn't matter anymore, Padmé. Even when I know you don't need me, I need you." He bent low to her face. "I'm going to make you understand."

He dragged her down the hall, her body in motion in front of him. With his left hand he grasped her wrist, and with his right— the artificial limb— he held her elbow. He moved too quickly for her to escape, run, attack. With that, she couldn't shield her fear.

"I won't hurt you. I swear."

He led her to an elevator and punched in a key sequence to bring them to the 24th floor. Anakin let Padmé free from his arms and they waited in the shaft in silence.

Anakin stared her down the entire time. She found herself roaming the small elevator cubical to somehow get away from his gaze. It made her tense.

But he wouldn't look away. How could he want to? He hadn't seen that face in so long. "You look the same," he said curiously. "Great, I mean." 

She stopped and glared at him with growing anger. "You look different. Very different." She shook her head and kept pacing. "I'm not sure I even know you anymore."

"Sure you do." He paused and folded his hands behind him. "The months have felt like years. You're the same as when I remember you… only prettier."

Padmé ignored his last comment. "You wouldn't know what eternity feels like then." She chewed her lower lip to prevent herself from crying. She had just put herself back into emotional turmoil.

She glanced his way and saw the hurt expression on his face. "… That long?" he said in a low voice.

Padmé rubbed her eye, but made it look as though she were only scratching it. "Yes, that long."

The elevator came to a halt, and the chrome doors slid open. The halls were bland, colorless. 

"Straight ahead."

They were on the top floor of the building, which explained the simplicity of the atmosphere. There were several corridors, but none of them really led to anywhere in particular. Just old furnace rooms and storage closets.

Anakin took her by the arm— gently— and gestured her to a door. "In here."

"What is it?"

"A room." He slid a key card through a metal slip pad and the door unlocked with a click. He opened the door for her and ushered her in. "Just a room."

It was a hotel accommodation, but a very plain one. There was a fresher, and in the open was a long dresser and a double bed. There was one window— it was tiny and in the middle of the far wall. It was barred.

Padmé was still busy examining the room when she heard a familiar, swift snap. From the corner of her eye she caught a glimpse of Anakin's hand, tossing a cylindrical object behind the bed. His lightsaber landed on the ground with a thump.

She veered around and looked him over. He stood with his hands out at his sides, showing his defenselessness.

"I'm unarmed now."

Tapping the side of her head, she muttered, "Except for this."

"Which we both have."

She winced. "You want to _talk_ now?"

He nodded. "I miss you."

She swallowed a lump in her throat, and turned away. "No you don't."

"Yes, I do!"

"Where have you been? Why did you go? _What are you doing_?" she inquired furiously.

"I can't tell you."

"Then I can't tell you anything either!"

He shook his head, unconcerned. "We don't have much time." He approached her and took one of her hands in his.

"Why?" she breathed.

He planted a tender kiss upon her hand. "Because… I have to go." With that he waved his hand over her eyes and stimulated a mild sleep with the Force. As her body went limp, he scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the bed. Her eyes became heavy, and she would fall asleep very soon. He kneeled down and rested his elbows upon the bed, pulling stray hairs from her face.

            Padmé was nearly overcome by the sleepiness, but managed to speak. "No—Why… did you do… what… you did…to me…? To… everyone…"

            "For the good that will come from this. That's why, Padmé." He kissed her forehead. "Love," he whispered, as much to himself as to Padmé. "You won't see it now, but Force I promise it'll come."

            "Don't leave… Ani…" she barely choked out, nearly consumed by sobs.

            He flinched painfully at the name, and whispered, "That isn't me anymore." He swallowed and got to his feet. "I'll see you again. I promise. But not yet, and not soon. Please… not too soon."

            "Ani…" Her whisper faded into the silence, the emptiness. Sleepiness and darkness swallowed her. She had few thought before she drifted to sleep. And she did not realize it, but he was gone. "Ani…

            "I still… love… you… Always…"

            The corridor seemed darker now as Anakin walked through it. He stopped at the end of the hall and leaned against the door that would bring him outside, into the endless night. He clenched his eyes shut for a moment, feeling drained and incredibly weak. There was throbbing in his heart like no other. It was beating so fast…

From his Jedi garbs he pulled out a comlink, the one he had found within Padmé's clothing. 

            It had a single transmitter. It was for communicating with only one person.

            Anakin pressed the green button and activated it.

            "Kenobi here…"

            Anakin squeezed the device in his hand. _Obi-Wan…_

            "… Padmé? What have you found?"

            He pulled the comlink up to his lips, and said through a tight face, "Me."

            There was silence on the other end for a moment. "Anakin," he muttered knowingly. "Where is Padmé?"

            "Without this transmitter," he said coldly. "Traitor. I had no idea I would be your new spy project. It doesn't even surprise me that you were too much of a coward to do it yourself."

            "Likewise, Anakin! Now, where is Padmé? What have you done with her?"

            "She's asleep. Check the back of the Outlander, the hotel. You should know how to find her. But here's a tip, Obi-Wan— if you want information come get it yourself."

            "That I'll do," he replied roughly.

            "Good. Then you know where to find me…"

            Slamming the door open, he winded up and hurled the comlink into the night. He put a hand upon his lightsaber, picked up from the hotel room floor, and hurried down the rattling staircase. Hidden in the darkness was a small ship. He entered the small cockpit of his temporary craft, nevertheless remembering to look up into the building.

            Somewhere, high up, she laid, sleeping soundly. For now, she was unaware of anything. If only it could've always been like that. But until she woke up…

            Changes were about. He couldn't escape that. Just as he couldn't escape that feeling buried so deep within him, it surpassed everything else. Sometimes he wished it wasn't there, that it had never been there. Neither of them would hurt.

            He was sorry. Truly. He loved her, and he couldn't deny it. Not ever.

            Feeling her peaceful presence through the walls many stories up, he projected an image and a voice into her sleep. 

            _Don't stop waiting for me. If things go wrong, be the one to redeem me._

            Hopefully, that would reach her. Not just for the moment, while she slept or even when she awoke. No… he wanted her to hear it and know it forever, through any distance they would come between them. Through other words she may hear. Through the pain she was surely feeling.

            Through any lost hope…

The End

A/N

            How was it? Better than the songfic, I hope. I didn't get much input on that version. I didn't like it that much anyway. Too distracting, I thought.

            Let me know! I love feedback!!! 

            And thanks for reading!!


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